


At Wit's End

by InArlathan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InArlathan/pseuds/InArlathan
Summary: Unsure what to make of his feelings for Lavellan, Solas turns towards to one friend he can always count on: Wisdom. Seeking her out in the Fade, she provides new insight.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Lavellan & Solas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	At Wit's End

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a challenge, but I think I came up with something decent. This takes place before the "All New, Faded For Her" quest, when Wisdom is still in her original spirit form. And to be honest, I love how she out-smarts him here. I hope, you love it, too.

“My friend.” Her voice wavers, all but an echo in the Fade. “It’s so good to see you.”

Although she is far away, Solas feels a wave of relief wash over him. He has been calling on her in Fade for five days, almost giving up hope to ever find her in his dreams again. But here she is, and he allows himself to breathe more lightly.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he replies in elvhen, happy to speak his native tongue once more. It hasn’t cost him much effort to master human speech, yet elvhen reminds him of what once was. What he was fighting for.

The spirit of wisdom moves closer, but her shape remains in a semi-transparent state due to the distance between them. 

“Where are you?”, Solas asks, squinting. “I can barely see you.”

“The People call this place Dirtharaven,” Wisdom tells him.

 _The Exalted Plains_ , he realizes. _What is she doing in the Dales?_

No wonder he had such trouble reaching out to her. Haven, where is physical body lies and sleeps, is hundreds of miles away, separated from the Dales by a massive mountain range called the Frostbacks. Even in the Fade, such a distance was not easily bridged. 

“What did you wish to find in this ghastly place?” Solas asks. 

“After what you told me about your encounters with the Dalish, I wanted to see them for myself,” Wisdom tells him light-heartedly. “They are after all what remains of The People.”

“They are not The People,” Solas reminds her harshly. “They are but a shadow of once was.”

“And does that include the woman you currently pledge loyalty to?”, Wisdom asks, tilting her head to regard him. “Last time we spoke, you had made a rather harsh assessment about the poor woman. But you are here, undoubtedly calling on me for advice, which leads me to believe that Lavellan is still alive and still bearing the mark of your orb. Impressive, most impressive, considering the fact that she is not even a mage.”

He can hear the repressed amusement in her voice.

“Oh, please,” he groans. “Don’t be so smug.”

Wisdom chuckles. “That’s what you like about me, and you know it.”

Solas shakes his head, struggling to put his conflicted feelings. His friend isn’t wrong, not entirely. His first description of Lavellan had been clouded by bitterness and revulsion. To see her bearing the anchor has been like an open wound to him that just won’t heal. Yet, somehow, Lavellan had pierced his defenses with both her words and deeds. Now, all he notices is her thoughtfulness, her unwavering certainty. In his mind, he can still see her leading him, Varric and Cassandra through the Hinterlands, always focused, yet compassionate enough to offer her help to strangers. She possesses a kindness that he hadn’t witnessed since… 

_… since before I became Fen’Harel_ , he notices.

“Maybe I was wrong about her,” Solas admits. “Lavellan is a remarkable woman, and I try to provide as much help and guidance as I can, though she hardly needs it. Yet, it troubles me to see her struggle with the burden of the anchor.”

Wisdom sizes him up and down for a moment.

“Why would you be troubled by that, my friend?”

“Because I…” Solas stops mid-sentence, searching for the right word. Something nondescript. Something harmless. “Because I care about her.”

“You _care_ about her?” the spirit echoes, lips pursed in a smile.

“Yes,” Solas replies slowly, stifling a sigh. He knows that face all too well. “But that is not why…”

Wisdom huffs out a laugh and waves a hand, cutting him off. “You are such a wise man, but you don’t know yourself all too well, do you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Solas retorts, bracing himself. This conversation is going in a direction he hasn’t intended. 

“Did you even realize why you wanted to reach out to me?”, Wisdom asks, regarding him. “The orb is yours, after all. No one knows its power as intimately as you do. So, there must be another reason for you to call on me.” She sizes him up and down. “Looking at you fidgeting with your fingers, watching the hazy reflections of your emotions in the Fade⎯I’d rather say, you love her. And that you have no idea how to handle such an intense feeling.”

Heat rises to his cheeks and he draws himself upright, fighting back the fuzzy feeling. “That is impossible!”

Wisdom chuckles, a defiant glimmer in her eyes. “Is it, now?”

“The consequences would be severe beyond imagining,” Solas says in a rush. “Besides, she doesn’t feel the same, turning this entire conversation into nothing more than a philosophical debate.”

“You seem so certain,” Wisdom assesses, “but did you ask her?”

“Ask her what?”

“If she likes you, too.”

Solas feels his entire body stiffen. Asking Lavellan flat out about her feelings is not his preferred course of action. Indeed, if he has a say in the matter, he would very much like not to have to ask her about anything at all. None of this ⎯ the conclave, the explosion, the breach ⎯ was supposed to happen. Especially not that. Not him falling for the woman who, without knowing, stole the anchor of his orb. 

Wisdom chuckles again, breaking the silence between them. “I never thought I’d see you blush so deeply, my friend. It’s a wonder to behold.” 

Solas swallows. Wisdom knows she has him cornered. And she knows that he knows. With whatever argument he tries to wiggle his way out of this conversation, she will find some line of reasoning that will bring him back to the one simple truth he doesn’t want to admit to himself. 

The simple truth that he did love Lavellan.

“The universe has a wicked sense of humor,” he says in a heavy voice.

A light shines in Wisdom’s eyes. “I can hardly argue with that.”


End file.
